


You Set Me On Fire

by Maria_de_Salinas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, Kitchen Sex, Light Dom/sub, not as dark as it sounds, past emotional abuse, slow buildup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_de_Salinas/pseuds/Maria_de_Salinas
Summary: Narcissa has become withdrawn and distant, and when Marlene finds out why, she knows just how to comfort her.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Marlene McKinnon
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	You Set Me On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a sequel to my Narcissa/Marlene longfic, but it's definitely not necessary to have read it. It's mostly just a steamy one-shot :)
> 
> Credit to [humanveil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil) for the idea of Narcissa's fondness for carnivorous plants.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

_Some say a host of cavalry, others of infantry,_

_and others of ships, is the most beautiful_

_thing on the dark earth, but I say it is_

_whatever a person loves._

_-Sappho,_ Sappho 16

They'd had the dining room table ever since they were married, when they still lived in the little flat above the garden centre they worked in. Narcissa had run her fingers along the polished oak, so smooth and clear Marlene could see her skin reflected in it, and she could tell by the way her eyes saw without seeing that she was falling in love with it, picturing the way it would look in their flat with the two of them sitting across from each other, candlelight flickering across the surface.

The table had looked huge in their flat but when they moved it into the dining room of their cottage they’d realized how small it actually was. Narcissa had liked this. The dining room table in the Black family home had been enormous, large enough to seat twenty, and her mother and father and Bella and Rodolphus had all sat at opposite ends as though they couldn’t get far enough away from each other.

Marlene picked at the shepherd's pie and studied the scuff marks Draco had made banging his fork on the table when he was two. It seemed like only months ago he was toddling through the sitting room on unsteady legs, crashing into everything. The house had been full of Draco, Draco thundering down the stairs, sliding down banisters, popping out of doors with trick spiders, talking too loudly. She half-expected him to breeze in from the garden, slamming the door behind him, broomstick slung over his shoulder. Narcissa would chide him about dragging mud through the house and tell him to wash up and Marlene would pretend to agree with her before winking and clearing the mud away with her wand.

The silence was loud, heavy with unspoken things. Marlene glanced up at Narcissa, who was staring down at her plate, moving her food around without really seeing it, and wondered if she was thinking about Draco too.

“I got an owl from Lucius,” said Marlene. “He wanted to congratulate us on Draco being Sorted into Slytherin.”

Narcissa let out an absent murmur and stared down at her plate.

“I suppose even Draco's got his flaws,” said Marlene, hoping she could coax a sarcastic retort out of her, but she didn’t say a thing. She couldn’t blame her really, that had been a bit weak.

Another long silence, punctuated by too-loud clacks of silverware against porcelain.

“Ted and Andromeda invited us to dinner tomorrow night,” said Marlene, thinking this, surely, would cheer her up. But still Narcissa didn’t say a bloody thing.

The table was too large, too distant. They might have been Cygnus and Druella, putting as much space between their bodies, their lives, as the four walls would allow.

Marlene tapped her fork against the wood. Narcissa had been like this for days, hardly saying anything to her at meals, avoiding her at work. At night she slept on the edge of the bed, body turned away from her, all curled up like she’d withdrawn into herself. She’d got like this sometimes, every once in awhile, and Marlene had learned to just let her be. But weeks had passed by and Marlene couldn't let it go any longer.

She set down her fork and looked over at her. “Is something wrong?”

Marlene knew what Narcissa was going to say before she’d even opened her mouth, could tell by the way she sat up straighter, wiped her hands on her napkin and lifted her fork as though she hadn't just been staring down at her food without seeing it. _I'm fine, everything's fine._

"I'm fine."

“Are you sure-”  
  
“Yes,” Narcissa snapped.

Marlene wasn’t one to shrink back from her anger. She pushed her plate to the side and rested her hands on the table. “Look, we both know that’s bollocks, Cissa. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes and let out a little huff of air and Merlin, she was beautiful was she did that. "Nothing is wrong, so will you please drop it?"

Marlene knew it was useless to press her. She finished her food and cleared the dishes away from the table with a few flicks of the wand, lowering them into the kitchen sink and rinsing them in warm water. When they'd been dried and put away she rolled down her sleeves and walked into the sitting room, where Narcissa was sitting in a high-backed chair with a glass of wine, staring at the wall.

Marlene wanted to prise the glass from her hand, grab the back of her head and kiss those pursed lips until they yielded, opened, hot breath and slick tongue and deep moans, desire building until she was buried between her thighs.

It’d been way too long since she’d gotten laid.

But more than that, she was worried. Narcissa was pulling away from her, and she didn’t know why.

She could feel the wall Narcissa had thrown up around herself, too high and deep for her to get through. Marlene sat down in a squashy leather armchair opposite her.

"Tonks offered us tickets to see the Weird Sisters tonight, fancy going?"

"I'd rather stay in."

"What if I arranged a Portkey this weekend? We could go anywhere you want."

"I'd rather not."

Narcissa took a long sip of wine and crossed her legs, shifting her body, turning away from her.

Marlene didn't understand. Things had been fine until not that long ago, the way they always were. Sure, maybe there were times before Draco left for Hogwarts that they got so wrapped up in him and in the little day-to-day things that needed to get done that they hadn't spent much time together, but Marlene had been doing her best to make up for it, cooking her dinner, leaving her notes, buying her bottles of her favourite riesling. Which, she couldn’t help but notice, Cissa was drinking now.

Marlene let out a sigh, just a small thing, but she could tell by the way Narcissa stiffened that she'd taken it personally. "Why are you shutting me out?"

"I am not shutting you out."

"Oh come on Narcissa, you barely speak to me, you avoid me at work, we hardly ever do anything together. I know something’s going on, I wish you’d just tell me-”

“And I wish you’d stop pushing. I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just tell me nothing.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that I am my own person," she shot back.

Marlene bristled and the blood rushed to her head. "Yeah, well, I was under the impression that we were a couple, and we tell each other things."

Narcissa drained her wine glass, setting it down rather too hard as she stood up.

"So that's it?" said Marlene. " You're not going to talk to me?"

Narcissa's silence was stony, and it only made Marlene angrier.

"Well, if you're not going to talk to me, you could at least help out around here a bit more. I've done the dishes every night this week."

"I've been rather busy, in case you haven't noticed."

Some small part of Marlene knew she should sympathize, crack a joke to break the tension maybe, but she had way too much frustration to vent. "Busy doing what, drinking wine and not talking to me?"

Narcissa let out an exasperated noise and strode out of the room, blue silk robes billowing out behind her.

Marlene threw up her hands. "You know what, fine. If that's how you want it." She went upstairs to their bedroom.

Their cottage was modest, by Black family standards anyway. Three bedrooms, white walls, simple furniture, although Narcissa had drawn the line at chintz fabric and insisted on leather and velvet. Their bedroom was where she really indulged her taste for luxury. The only word Marlene could really find for it was _opulent_. Silk hangings, candelabras, satin sheets, vines and flowers growing from the ceiling, daggers hanging along the wall. Marlene secretly loved it even though she teased her about it all the time, but now it just annoyed her. Pretentious and stuck-up and phony, just like Narcissa.

She snatched a pillow off the bed and walked out of the room.

Narcissa was standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed. "Where are you going with that?"

"To the guest bedroom. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Narcissa glanced away from her and for just a moment Marlene thought she might feel guilty, might apologize. But she didn't, and without another look at her Marlene went into the guest bedroom and closed the door behind her.

She pulled back the sheets and fluffed up her pillow but she couldn't get comfortable. She turned to one side and then the other but the room was just too strange, too different, too vivid a reminder of everything that was wrong.

This wasn't just some stupid spat where they fought and worked it out and made up after. This was different, the silence before the explosion, the words she'd buried breaking through the surface of her mind. _She doesn't love you._

Was she too loud, too annoying? Was she too clumsy, too embarassing to bring to parties? Was it that she'd gained weight? She'd never been slender but Narcissa always had always adored her curves, her muscular arms, the thick strong thighs she'd part open and kiss so lovingly. Maybe she was tired of them now.

Marlene lay in bed a long time before she fell asleep.

***

Narcissa rolled over to her other side and opened one eye, half-hoping maybe Marlene was watching her, waiting for her to wake up so she could take her in her arms and kiss the edge of her lips. But she knew she wasn’t there. Marlene couldn't stand her, which was just as well, because she was starting to feel the same way about her. She'd noticed all her half-hearted attempts at affection, the notes and the bottles of wine and all the other little things that tried to fill up all the empty spaces left by years of inattention, late nights at the shop, fears and worries met with absent murmurs because Marlene's mind was somewhere else.

She glanced at the clock and saw that she had maybe ten minutes before she’d have to get up. She closed her eyes and willed time to stop, so she could just lie in the dark with her face buried in her pillow and not feel.

She was just drifting off when the alarm sounded. She groped for her wand and blasted it across the room.

She closed her eyes. Just a few more minutes. She was co-owner of the garden centre, she could be late if she wanted to. And so much the better if Marlene was annoyed with her, because then she'd know where she stood. She had nothing to lose.

Marlene rapped on the door. “Better get going, Narcissa, I’ve had an owl from Sprout, she’s got a more aggressive breed of fanged geraniums she thinks we might be interested in. You’ll have to deal with the customers today.”

Marlene sounded positively smug about it. Of course she would have to deal with customers when she was in the foulest mood she’d been in in months. Fucking hell.

She rolled out of bed and pinned her hair up, giving her reflection only the briefest glance before pulling her work robes over her head. She couldn’t stand to look at herself.

Marlene had already left by the time she came downstairs. She took a few bites of toast and drank a glass of cold tea and walked across the village to the greenhouse.

Her head was heavy and throbbing with the beginnings of a headache but the moment she walked inside and smelled warm air and damp earth and living things her tension faded away. She’d been coming here nearly every day for years and she'd never stop loving the way it smelled in the morning.

She glanced at the sign on the window. She should be opening up, letting customers in, but she wasn’t in the mood just then, and no one was waiting outside anyway. She decided to tend to her plants awhile first.

They sold just about everything, but rare and dangerous plants were Narcissa’s specialty. She ran her hands along the Venomous Tentacula, stroked the Devil’s Snare and the Venus flytraps, before stopping to examine her latest addition, a black mamba plant she’d bred herself with especially potent venom.

She reached out to touch it, paying no attention to the threatening snap of its jaws, running a finger along its back. The plant crooned and went slack.

She walked over to a shelf full of tulips with bright red petals. A drop of water flowed between the folds and she ran her fingers along them, an unexpected heat spreading through her.

The door slammed and Narcissa snatched her hand away.

“How did the geraniums look?” she said, her voice businesslike, distant.

“Fine,” said Marlene. “I put in an order.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. “Without asking me?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to. And why haven’t you opened yet? It’s half past. We have customers waiting.” She snatched the sign and turned it around, letting out an exasperated sigh and stomping towards the till. She thrust it open and began counting out change, every exaggerated clink of galleons ringing out like a threat. Narcissa thought it a bit rich for her to be worrying about customers when she was dressed in dirt-streaked robes and smacking gum between her lips.

She watched as Marlene lifted a heavy sack of compost, muscles rippling underneath her sleeves, stifling the flutter that went through her. Without really wanting to she remembered the detention they'd served together their seventh year, not long after they'd met, when Marlene had stood behind her and showed her how to prune Shrivelfigs, but she pushed it aside. They were different people then.

They didn’t speak to each other until closing time, and ate dinner in different rooms.

Narcissa put her plate in the sink without bothering to wash it and went upstairs to shower. She threw her work robes into a pile in the corner and adjusted the taps, waiting until the shower filled with steam before stepping inside.

She wanted to close her eyes, turn all the lights off, do anything other than look at herself, at the scars on her chest, the stretch marks that cut across her stomach, her thighs. The folds and creases from the weight she’d gained over the years.

She could feel her mother’s fingernails digging into her back. “Stand up straight,” she’d hiss into her ear. “Suck in your breath. Step lightly. You’re a Black for Circe’s sake. _Act_ like it.”

She learned to walk gracefully the moment she was old enough to stand. “Keep your head up, Cissy, don’t slouch,” her mother would say, over and over again like she was teaching her to count. Far more than she ever told her she loved her.

Her mother counted out her calories for her, never letting her go too far over, even if it meant going without any sweets for weeks on end. She needed to keep her figure, keep up appearances, keep a waist so slender a man could put his hands around it. Counting calories, measuring numbers on a scale became so deeply ingrained she couldn't stop even after she'd married Marlene, and it was only after years of help that she'd finally done it.

And her body had paid dearly for it, by the looks of her stomach and thighs and her too-thick arms.

Narcissa washed quickly and snatched two towels off the rack, one to wrap around her hair and the other to wrap around her body, but she never got that far. She clutched the towel to herself and slumped to the floor, face down in the rug.

***

Marlene was drying the last dish when she heard the squeak of the pipes and the sound of running water. Of course Narcissa would be pampering herself while she was left to pick up the slack.

She set down the plate so hard it nearly shattered and wiped her hands off on a towel. She wasn't tired enough to go to bed yet, but she didn't really know what to do with herself. She slumped down on the sofa with a magazine, but she couldn't concentrate on any of the words. After awhile the water stopped running and she decided to get ready for bed.

The bathroom door was still closed but it was so quiet Marlene didn't see how Narcissa could still be inside. She pushed the door open.

Narcissa was face down on the rug, face in her hands, wet hair clinging to the bare skin stretched over her shoulder blades, and she looked so small, so fragile, that every angry thought Marlene was holding onto ebbed away.

Marlene sat down beside her. "Narcissa? What's wrong."

"Nothing," Narcissa snapped, voice muffled by the rug.

Marlene could've taken her words to heart, could've stood up and walked out of the room, but she knew Narcissa didn't really want her to.

Marlene stroked her hair. "It’s okay, Cissa, you can tell me."

“Please just leave.”

Marlene put her lips to her ear. “I don’t think you really want that.”

“I don’t want you to see me, alright? Just leave.”

Marlene raised her head. “What do you mean?”

Narcissa sat up and yanked the towel from herself. "Look at me. Just _look._ How can you stand this?”

Her skin was wet and flushed from the heat of the shower, drops of water from her wet hair running between her breasts, along the scars and marks and folds of her skin, all the things that made up _her_.

Marlene put her forehead to Narcissa’s and looked into her eyes. "I love all of this.”

“You’re just saying that because we were fighting.”

"No. I mean it."

"I don't believe you."

"Why?"

Narcissa turned her face away. "How could you? How could anyone?"

Marlene ran her hands along her back, along the ridges of her spine, her shoulders. She stroked her neck and ran her fingertips across her chest, tracing the path home. "Do you know why I love this?"

"No."

Marlene traced Narcissa's lips. "Because it's you."

Narcissa spoke in a whisper, her lips just brushing Marlene's fingertips. "You're lying to me."

"No." Her breath blew across Narcissa's face.

Narcissa hesitated, lips just touching her hands.

“I’m not lying,” whispered Marlene.

Narcissa pressed her lips to her hands and kissed them, moving down to her fingertips, slipping them into her mouth. She sucked them, sliding her tongue across them, making Marlene's breath come faster.

Marlene pulled her hand away and kissed her lips, holding on to the back of her head, laying her down on the rug, kissing her neck and her collarbone and tracing the scars on her chest with her lips, her tongue.

"I love all of this," she whispered against her skin. She pressed her lips to Narcissa's stomach, along every crease and fold, feeling the way it rose and fell with her fast breathing. As she brushed her lips along the curve of her hip Narcissa closed her fingers around her hand.

"Do you want me to stop?" whispered Marlene.

"Yes. But will you sleep next to me tonight?"

"Of course."

Narcissa stood up and Marlene followed her to the bedroom, still flushed and breathing hard. She slid out of her robes without putting on her nightgown and curled up next to Narcissa, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

She was too aroused to fall asleep right away, so she lay against Narcissa, face pressed against her skin, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, listening to her breathe until her eyes closed.

***

Narcissa opened her eyes and turned over to her other side. Marlene was curled up on her side asleep, mouth open, snoring slightly. Her hair was lank and clinging to her face and there was a trickle of spit along the side of her mouth and Narcissa could've looked at her for hours and it wouldn't be enough.

She wanted to wait until Marlene's eyes opened and take her in her arms, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd been so awful to her the past few months. Marlene had been distant with her at times, certainly, but only because she’d pushed her away. She had to make up it to her somehow.

She threw on her short black satin dressing gown and ran a brush through her hair, pulling it back into a low knot. She stopped and listened to Marlene’s breathing. She was still asleep. Perfect.

She went downstairs to the kitchen with a burst of creative energy. She'd make a rich, flaky quiche filled with Marlene's favourite things-ham, cheese, bacon. She pictured herself taking it out of the oven, setting it in front of Marlene, watching the crooked grin spread across her face.

And then reality set in a like a nail to a balloon and wiped the smile from her face. She didn't have a bloody clue how to make quiche, or much of anything else really. She'd tried to do a bit of cooking when they were first married but after mistaking cayenne pepper for cinnamon, giving Marlene food poisoning and nearly setting their flat on fire Marlene had taken over, putting Narcissa in charge of cleanup.

She could always figure it out, anyway. How hard could it be to whip up some eggs?

With a flick of the wand she summoned a carton of eggs off the shelf and cracked them into a bowl, adding in some cream and whisking it together. She chopped up some ham and bacon and shredded some cheese and threw it in with the egg mixture. She had no idea how it was supposed to look, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it.

Now for the crust. Narcissa searched the shelves for prepared pastry crusts, but couldn’t find them. She tried a Summoning Charm. Nothing. _Shit._ She'd never made pastry in her life.

She searched the shelves again, pulling out boxes and moving things around, until she found a prepared graham crust. Not the same thing as a pastry crust, but close enough. She poured in the egg mixture and set it in the oven, allowing herself a few moments to rest before rinsing off the mixing bowl in warm water.

“Are you cooking me breakfast?”

Narcissa whipped around. Marlene’s voice was warm and amused and she was smiling.

“Well, you know, I thought it was only fair, since you’ve been doing so much lately.”

She turned back to the sink and tried to look busy.

Marlene wrapped her arms around her and kissed the back of her neck. “You look sexy in that dressing gown you know.” She ran her hands up Narcissa’s legs, between the back of her thighs, making her shiver.

Marlene ran her hands up along her hips, up her chest, pulling the front of her gown open to stroke her bare breasts, circling them with her thumb.

“I need you,” she whispered.

Narcissa couldn't imagine anything feeling so good as Marlene's hands over her bare skin. It had been so long. 

Marlene slipped her hand down and stroked Narcissa's stomach and the tension that spread through her was too intense, too in need of release. She turned her face towards Marlene and kissed her neck. “So do I.”

Marlene kissed the back of her neck and slid her fingertips slid down her chest, across her stomach, down to her hips, sliding just beneath her knickers, making her wet, leaving her aching with need. She stroked along the edges and Narcissa was so tense, so on edge she was almost shaking. A moan escaped her lips and Marlene sensed what she needed. She slipped her fingers deeper, running them gently up and down her centre, parting her lips. Narcissa gasped and moaned into her neck. She was _burning._

Marlene slid Narcissa’s gown off her shoulders and took off her own and Narcissa leaned back into her arms, against her bare skin, breathing her in, as Marlene slid her hand back down between her legs, her cool, soft fingertips sliding up and down her centre, circling her clit. Her moans were growing louder, her legs tighter, and she knew she was so close, too close, she wanted it to last hours, but it had been so long, she needed it too badly. "Wait," she breathed. Marlene's hand stopped.

"On your knees," Narcissa whispered.

Marlene got on her knees and ran her hands up her thighs, parting them, putting her lips to them as she stroked them, getting closer and closer until her lips just brushed her clit. She pulled her lips back and blew and Narcissa gripped the sides of the counter and moaned. Her toes were curled underneath her feet and her legs were so tight she knew she was going to come as soon as Marlene's tongue touched her. She let herself go, let herself feel it, let the orgasm rock through her as her whole body shook and went weak.

She leaned forward and buried her face in Marlene’s shoulder, breathing hard, barely able to stand up. When she’d come down and caught her breath turned to Marlene and kissed her, running her hands down her back, holding her close. Marlene was so wet Narcissa could feel it down the back of her legs.

Narcissa knew everything about her, knew just how she liked to be touched, how she needed to be held. How she loved to be _fucked._

She got behind her and pushed her into the counter, bending her over, pinning between her arms. She kissed the back of her neck and bit down gently as Marlene gasped underneath her.

She slapped those thick gorgeous thighs and slid her hands down her stomach, pulling on the tangle of hair, sliding along the edges of her folds, parting her lips, stroking them up and down, increasing the pressure, Marlene panting beneath her. She circled her clit and slipped her fingers inside her and Marlene moaned and thrusted against her hand, breaking into a sweat underneath her, the scent of her making Narcissa want her all over again.

Narcissa pulled her hand away.

"Don't stop," breathed Marlene.

"I think you can do better than that," said Naricissa.

"Please."

Narcissa could hear the need in her voice. The desperation. She slapped her thighs and slid her fingers back inside her, rubbing her clit with the edge of her palm.

“You want it harder, don’t you,” she whispered. “You want to be fucked.” She thrust her fingers inside her and bit down on her shoulder as Marlene threw her head back and whimpered, walls tightening around her hand, legs shaking. She gasped and swore and slumped over the counter, breathing hard.

Narcissa put her arms around her and rested her face in her hair and when Marlene’s breathing slowed she turned to her and put her head on her shoulder.

“I think I need to sit down." Her voice was weak.

Narcissa sat down with her and picked up the crumpled dressing gown, rummaging around in the pockets until she found a bottle of soothing gel. She twisted the cap off and rubbed it into Marlene's shoulders where she'd bit down, kissing the back of her neck.

"Do you need anything else?"

“I think I’m alright,” said Marlene, smiling.

Narcissa stroked Marlene’s face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” said Marlene, kissing her hair. “It was just right.”

Narcissa rested her forehead against Marlene’s. “I’m so sorry about the way I’ve been.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry too." She kissed the edge of her mouth. "I love you."

Narcissa thought she smelled smoke. "Oh shit."

Marlene pulled back. "What?"

"Oh, sorry, I love you too, it's just that I think my quiche is burning."

Narcissa shot up and pulled the oven door open. The quiche was a bit too brown on top, but it looked fine otherwise. "Well that's a relief. It's a bit overdone on the top but I think it's alright otherwise."

"Can't wait to try it," said Marlene. "It's been awhile since I've had a stay at St. Mungo's."

Narcissa laughed and swatted her with an oven mitt.

They ate on the floor, side by side, not bothering to put their clothes back on.

Marlene scooped up some with her fork and took a bite. "This is delicious Cissa, thank you," she said, kissing her forehead. She dug her fork in deeper. "Is this graham crust?"

"I ran out of pastry," said Narcissa through a mouthful.

"Are you serious? You ran out of pastry so you used graham crust?"

Narcissa's face was hot. "Well...they're almost the same thing aren't they?"

Marlene laughed. "Not exactly." She took another bite. "But it's certainly...interesting. Adds a bit of texture."

Narcissa laughed with her, and when she was finished she set down her plate and snuggled up next to Marlene.

"This is the best breakfast I've had in ages," said Marlene, putting an arm around her and drawing her closer.

"And the best sex I've had in ages," said Narcissa, nuzzling her face.

"Me too." Marlene put her arms around her neck and kissed her, deeply and slowly, stroking her back. "Why don't we have some more of it, then?"

Narcissa thought of the way she tasted, the way her legs felt tangled up in hers, the scent of her body all over the sheets. The sound of her breathing as she lay beside her.

The way she loved every part of her.

“Sounds perfect.”

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Lightly edited to improve the smut :) I hope it was alright!


End file.
